


Taking Our Turn

by carolinecrane



Category: Island City (1994)
Genre: Clonecest, Clones, First Kisses, Five Times, Frottage, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 07:43:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2804849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief history of Greg 23, told through five first kisses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Our Turn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cloudtrader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudtrader/gifts).



For the first eighteen years of his life, the only people Greg 23 knew were the doctors in the clinic, the soldiers keeping them safe inside their section of the Pentagon, and his brothers. For a long time he didn’t realize how strange that was; he didn’t know that other kids were allowed to run and play outside, that they went to school with people who looked nothing at all like them, or even that most kids had parents to tuck them in at night instead of a dorm room and a night nurse.

But Greg knew something was wrong with him, because even among his brothers he didn’t fit in. He wasn’t given to fits of random destruction like the rest of them, for one thing. Most of his free time was spent reading in a quiet corner, if he could find one, and avoiding his brothers in case one of them decided to make him the subject of a random act of violence. He’d learned to take a punch early on, learned just as quickly how to avoid making himself a target if he could avoid it at all. It was easier said than done, given the limited space they were allotted to live their lives. 

By the time he was ten he’d discovered every forgotten closet and crevice big enough for a clumsy, underweight boy to squeeze into. He’d read his way through the small library in their classroom, books like _Peter Pan_ and _The Wizard Of Oz_ and even _Great Expectations_. From his books he learned that life outside the Pentagon was much different, even for boys and girls without parents. He learned that there were whole worlds he’d never seen and might never get to experience, because the doctors hadn’t given any sign that they were planning to let any of the Gregs go.

He was fourteen the day Greg 22 found him, curled up in a disused closet with a worn copy of _Robinson Crusoe_. As soon as the closet door swung open Greg 23 tensed, back pressed against the wall and his heart hammering against his chest as he watched his brother grin and pull the door shut behind him.

“Hiding again?” he asked, dropping onto the closet floor next to 23.

Of all his brothers, Greg 22 was the one 23 dreaded the least. He was smart -- not as smart as 23, but smart enough to lead the others rather than follow -- but he wasn’t as quick to violence as some of the others. He wasn’t nice, exactly, but he wasn’t always mean, either. The problem was that 23 never knew from one moment to the next which version of his brother he was going to get.

“I’m not hiding,” 23 said, holding up his book. “I’m reading.”

“Ah, yes, ‘reading’,” 22 repeated in a tone that told 23 he was being laughed at. “For all the good that’s going to do you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 23 said, forgetting his fear long enough to turn toward his brother.

“Do you really think they’re ever going to let us out of here?” 22 asked, reaching over to snatch the book out of 23’s hands. “Do you think you’re going to leave all this behind someday and run off to all these places you spend so much time reading about?”

Greg 23 shrugged, because the truth was he tried not to think about it. There was no point in dwelling on a future that might not exist, and the longer they spent locked up together, the easier it was to believe they’d never see anything else.

“Poor 23,” 22 said. He dropped the book on the floor between them, then he reached up and gripped 23’s chin. 

“What do you want?” 23 asked, trying and failing to shake loose from 22’s grip. He wasn’t hurting 23, exactly, but his fingers pressed into 23’s skin a little harder, then he leaned close enough to breath against 23’s mouth.

“Don’t you wonder what it feels like?”

“What what feels like?” 23 asked, heart in his throat and he swallowed hard around it.

“Living,” 22 murmured, then he pressed his lips hard against 23’s.

23’s lips parted on a gasp and he tried to scramble backwards, but his back was pressed hard against the wall and 22 was still gripping his face to hold him there. Teeth sank into his lip and he tasted blood, but when he pressed his hand to the center of 22’s chest to push him away, his hand curled around the fabric of his shirt instead.

22’s lips were too dry, his fingers gripping 23 too hard and their mouths fit too perfectly together. It all felt wrong somehow, but 23 held on anyway, warmth curling in his stomach as he kissed his brother back. 

None of the books he’d read had prepared him for this moment, for the way his whole body reacted to someone else’s lips on his, to someone else’s hands on his skin. He wished 22 would touch him somewhere -- everywhere -- besides his chin, that he’d _do_ something besides moving his mouth against 23’s as though he was some kind of experiment.

As soon as he thought it he was moving, the back of his head hitting the wall as 22 shoved him backwards. He winced, but before he had time to complain 22 was there again, stretched out on top of him and kissing him hard. 23 forgot the pain in his head and reached up, hands on 22's sides to drag him closer. His hips were moving without his permission, bucking up against 22's thigh in search of some friction to ease the ache in his groin.

22 laughed against his mouth and pressed his knee between 23's thighs, pulling back to watch as 23 panted and rocked against him. He heard a high-pitched noise and knew it was coming from him, but he couldn't stop himself, and when 22 ground down again he let out a moan and came in his pants. 

He was still panting when 22 pulled away, hands leaving 23 altogether to sit up and wipe idly at the corners of his mouth.

“That was weird."

23 scrambled to sit up, his orgasm making him clumsier than usual, and he nearly toppled over before he managed to prop himself against the wall. He felt his cheeks flush and reached up to scrub at his face, hoping 22 wouldn't notice him blushing. He knew he should say something, maybe agree that what had just happened was strange. And it was, but it was clear that 23 had liked it a lot more than 22.

When he didn't say anything 22 stood up, tugging his shirt straight and running his hands through his hair. He kicked a foot out, catching 23’s leg just behind the knee. “You better lay low until dinner. 18 sent me looking for you. I'll tell him I couldn't find you.”

“Oh,” 23 said, glancing toward the door as though it might open and reveal more of his brothers looking to ambush him. “Okay. Thanks.”

22 shook his head and reached for the door knob. “You better not tell anybody about this. They already think you're a total freak.”

He pulled the door open before 23 could answer, and a second later he was alone in the closet again. His pulse was still racing, face burning with humiliation. He knew his brothers all thought he was a freak, but up until now he hadn't actually proved it to any of them. Chances were 22 wouldn't tell anybody about what 23 had let him do, but it was bad enough that he had something to hold over 23 now.

~

Greg 23’s second kiss didn’t happen until almost four years later. He still spent most of his time reading and dreaming about a world outside of labs and doctors and bizarre experiments, but he was old enough now to accept that those things weren’t going to happen for him.

Avoiding his brothers was still his number one priority, especially since the older they got, the more violent their outbursts were. The worst of them wandered around in packs, cornering the weaker ones and using them to refine their fighting techniques.

23 was still a favorite target, mainly because he was completely useless at fighting back. No matter how hard he tried, he’d never managed to overcome his natural lack of coordination, and he’d had more than his share of bruises over the years as proof of his physical shortcomings.

There were plenty of days when he was able to avoid his brothers altogether, skipping meals and hiding out with nothing but his books for company. He was too big for some of his favorite hiding places now, but there were still a few unused closets where he could be reasonably sure of peace and quiet.

22 had never come looking for him again after that first time, and 23 didn’t regret it, but he hadn’t forgotten the way it felt to be that close to someone else. He caught himself pressing his fingers to his lips sometimes when he was alone, and whenever it happened he blushed and forced himself to think about astrophysics or calculus until his pulse stopped racing.

The day his closet door opened for the second time Greg 23 stood up as quickly as he could without tripping on his own feet, heart racing with a mixture of fear and anticipation. He expected to find his brothers looking for him, but instead he found himself face to face with one of the soldiers who patrolled the halls most nights.

“The doctors are looking for you,” he said, shifting his weight and glancing around the closet. “They want all of you in the lab pronto.”

“Okay,” Greg said, swallowing hard and willing his heart to stop racing. “Why?”

The soldier -- Jenkins, according to the name on his uniform -- shrugged, but he didn’t quite meet Greg’s eye when he answered. “They don’t tell me anything.”

“Join the club,” Greg said, and when Jenkins let out a laugh and took a step forward, Greg’s heart raced a little harder.

“So what do you do in here all the time?” Jenkins asked, glancing around what probably looked like a pretty uninviting space to him. It wasn’t much to look at, Greg knew that, just a few old uniforms stacked in one corner to cushion the floor and a bare light bulb overhead, but to him it meant safety.

“I read a lot,” he answered, blushing at the thought that the soldiers and likely the doctors had known where to find him all along. 

Jenkins took another step forward and Greg stumbled back, colliding with the wall and barely catching himself before he fell over. Jenkins looked him up and down in a way that made Greg blush even harder, but he didn’t laugh at the way Greg tripped over his own feet. For a second Greg thought maybe Jenkins was going to keep coming, his stomach trembling at the thought of being crowded up against the wall by someone who didn't look exactly like him.

"You better get moving," Jenkins finally said, and Greg let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He nodded, head colliding with the wall, and Jenkins' mouth turned up in a grin.

“You’re not like the rest of them.”

“The rest of who?” Greg asked, blinking at the sudden warmth of Jenkins standing less than a foot away from him. 

“The clones,” Jenkins said.

Greg winced at the word, but he knew that was what they were. The doctors had always been honest about that; they couldn't be anything else, really, not when there were forty-two of them who all looked exactly alike. It wasn't anything to be ashamed of, but the way the soldiers and even some of the medical staff looked at them sometimes made Greg feel like he had something to hide. Greg flushed and tried to move past Jenkins to the door, but a hand landed on his arm to pull him backwards. 

"What...?" Greg began, but then another hand was on his face, fingers tracing his jaw like maybe Jenkins had been thinking about it for awhile.

"It's weird, seeing the same face all the time," Jenkins said. "Makes a guy wonder."

"Wonder what?" Greg asked, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

Instead of saying it out loud, Jenkins pressed forward, lips brushing Greg's just for a moment before he pulled back to look at him. For a few seconds he just searched Greg's face, but before Greg could ask what he was looking for, he must have found it, because he pressed forward to kiss Greg again. Hands landed on his hips to press him up against the wall, mouth moving on Greg's as though he'd been imagining this moment for a long time.

When he’d kissed 22, Greg had just assumed it was the fact that he was kissing another person for the first time and not that he was kissing another boy that made him feel like he was on fire. He might have been able to keep telling himself that if Jenkins hadn’t pressed hard against him, holding him against the wall and sliding a hand under Greg’s shirt to press his palm against warm skin. But this was the second time he'd felt the sharp angle of muscle pressed against him, the roughness of strong hands shoving and pulling until he got Greg into just the right position.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, hands roaming over fabric and then under, bodies pressed together and mouths moving slow, as though they had all the time in the world instead of just a few stolen moments. Only that was all they had, and when Jenkins pulled away with a gasp, Greg didn't try to stop him.

“You better go or they’ll send somebody else to find you,” Jenkins finally said, but the words were whispered against Greg’s lips as though he didn’t want to stop touching.

He nodded, hands flexing on the front of Jenkins’ uniform. “You should...probably go too.”

“Yeah.” Jenkins took a step backwards, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. For a few seconds he just looked at Greg, then he shook his head and reached for the closet door. “You’re really not like the rest of them.”

Greg wanted to ask what he meant by that, but before he caught his breath, Jenkins was gone. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there with his back pressed against the closet wall, waiting for his complexion and his breathing to go back to normal. There was a part of him that wished Jenkins had stayed, that they could have forgotten about the doctors and Greg's brothers and everything else long enough to take what they both wanted. But Greg knew now what he wanted, and that was something.

~

The Academy was the first place Greg 23 had ever felt like he fit in. That had everything to do with Andy, with the way he’d accepted Greg from their first day as roommates and the way he’d stood up to anyone who’d tried to give Greg grief over being a clone. It never mattered to Andy, and no matter how long they were friends, there was no way Greg would ever be able to repay him for that.

He tried not to resent it when Connie came along; it was clear Andy loved her, and even Greg had to admit that she was pretty amazing. She never minded that Greg was a permanent fixture in Andy’s life, and she was often the first to insist that he tag along with them when they had down time between classes.

So Andy and Greg became Connie and Andy and Greg, and in a way it was kind of nice to have someone else in his corner. Sure, it meant Andy had a little less time for him, and sometimes it was hard to watch them being so happy together and realize he might never find that for himself. But mostly Greg tried to be happy for them, and mostly he was successful.

On the day Andy proposed to Connie she ran to tell Greg first, even before she called her parents. Greg had known it was coming; Andy wouldn’t make a decision that big without talking it over with his best friend, and Greg knew he should be grateful that he was that important to someone else. Still, he wasn’t as important as Connie, and even though he’d never admit it, the knowledge stung a little.

He wasn’t jealous. Sure, he might have had a tiny, passing crush on Andy in the beginning, but he’d gotten over it pretty quickly. The truth was that he just wanted what they had, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever find it.

That didn’t stop him from hugging Connie back when she showed him the ring and then threw herself at him, and when she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, he tried not to show his surprise.

“Thanks you, Greg,” she said, smiling that gorgeous smile of hers just for him. “I know you helped Andy with the ring and everything.”

“What are friends for?” Greg said, and he meant it, because he’d do anything for the two of them, and he knew the feeling was mutual.

“You’re family, 23.”

She grinned at him and let him go, talking a mile a minute about wedding plans, so she didn’t notice when Greg reached up to touch his cheek. And the thing was, he knew Connie loved him just as much as he loved her. They’d been friends for ages, so it was no surprise to know she’d want him involved in her wedding. But it was the first time anyone had ever referred to him as family and really meant it, and Greg wasn’t going to forget that feeling any time soon.

~

“I’ll hold him when he’s older. Like, twelve or so,” Greg said, inching away from the bed where Connie was rocking her brand new baby.

“Don’t be stupid, you’re his godfather,” Andy said, hand on Greg’s shoulder to steer him forward.

Connie grinned up at him and lifted the baby carefully, one hand supporting his head as she slid the tiny bundle into Greg’s arms. The baby stirred and made an unhappy sound, but as soon as he was settled against Greg’s chest he quieted down again.

“Wow,” Greg said, terrified to move, because he was uncoordinated enough on a good day, and the last thing he wanted to do was drop his own godson not even an hour after he was born.

“Ty, this is your godfather,” Andy said, leaning over to pull the blanket away from the baby’s face. He was tiny and red and he felt so fragile in Greg’s arms, as though he might disappear any second. Then a tiny hand pushed out of the blankets and pushed against Greg’s face, and he didn’t even think about it before he turned to brush a kiss across the tiny fingers.

“Hi there, kid,” Greg murmured, staring down at this person he was evidently...well, sort of responsible for. “I’m your uncle Greg.”

He glanced up to find Andy and Connie beaming at him, and Greg wanted to roll his eyes, because they were totally going to be those overbearing parents who showed everyone who stood still for more than a second pictures of their kid, but instead Greg found himself grinning right back at them.

“We talked about naming him after you,” Andy said, apologetic, “but we figured, considering, you’d probably rather we didn’t.”

Greg knew what he wasn’t saying; there were enough Gregs floating around already, and most of them weren’t the kind of people anyone would want to associate with their kid. Besides, Greg knew what it was like to grow up without an identity of his own, and there was no way he’d wish that on anyone else.

“No, Ty’s a good name. I like it,” he said, looking back down to find the baby staring back up at him as though he understood exactly what Greg was saying.

~

“You’re a freak,” Mendi said, laughing.

“Hey,” Greg protested, but the truth was, it was the first time he’d hadn’t minded being called that. It was the first time it hadn’t stung, because he knew what Mendi meant. He’d probably been called a freak at least as many times as Greg, and maybe even more, so the fact that they were both freaks just meant they had something in common.

It was the start of a pretty good friendship, anyway, and it turned out Mendi was a pretty good guy to have in his corner. His superhuman abilities were handy out in the field, sure, and it was nice to have somebody stand up for him to his brothers, but the truth was Greg enjoyed his company. 

And he’s always referred to the Recs as ‘ugly’ the same way everyone else did, but there was something about Mendi that was sort of...attractive. Maybe it was the way he approached everything with such intensity, or the stoic way he bore the fact that he’d been forbidden by the government to have any sort of personal relationships.

Greg knew what it was like to have his life dictated by the government, too, and it bothered him a little that Mendi just accepted it the way he did. Or maybe it just bothered him that Mendi took ‘no reproduction’ to mean that he was forbidden to have any relationships at all, because Greg could think of plenty of situations where Mendi wouldn’t have to worry about reproducing.

Or one situation in particular, namely a relationship with Greg. If he was attracted to women, that was one thing, but so far in their friendship Mendi hadn’t shown a real interest in anyone. Except...well, he definitely enjoyed Greg’s company, focused on him so completely whenever they were together that sometimes Greg could almost forget they weren’t dating.

He’d had to remind himself more than once, after a few drinks and Mendi walking him back to his quarters, ‘just to make sure he made it safely’. Greg had a feeling he should be offended that Mendi didn’t think he could make it back to his quarters on his own, but he was usually too busy being flattered that Mendi wanted to spend as much time with Greg as he could.

That was how it felt, as though Mendi was drawing out their time together instead of just trying to protect him from some imaginary danger. More than once he’d thought about asking Mendi to stay, maybe taking his hand and pulling him inside and silencing any protests with a well-aimed kiss. But Greg had never been what anyone would call suave, and the last thing he wanted to do was mess up what they already had by asking for something Mendi couldn’t give.

So he let Mendi walk him to his door, and then he let Mendi say goodnight and walk away, down the corridor to his own lonely quarters. Maybe that was what Mendi wanted, but the longer Mendi lingered at his door every time, the more Greg started to wonder if Mendi was just as bad at this sort of thing as Greg was.

It wasn’t like either of them had all that much experience. Mendi was completely celibate, according to him, and aside from a couple awkward dates at the Academy, Greg hadn’t seen any action since he left the Pentagon. Even the memory of that made him blush, though, so he tried not to think about it. Instead he focused on studying the way Mendi watched him, on the hands on his shoulder or his back to steady him when he happened to stumble during one of their missions.

He watched Mendi over his glass when they went out for post-shift drinks, and he watched the way Mendi never paid attention to anyone else in the room, male or female. It didn’t take long to convince himself that Mendi enjoyed Greg’s company as much as Greg enjoyed his, if nothing else, but he could tell Mendi wasn’t planning to do anything about it. Whether it was because of his stupid vow of celibacy or if he was scared to mess things up between them, Greg wasn’t sure.

If he didn’t ask he’d never know, though, so Greg promised himself that the next time he got Mendi alone, he was going to lay his cards on the table and live with the consequences.

“You up for a drink?” he asked Mendi after their next shift, and if his voice shook a little, Mendi didn’t seem to notice.

“Okay,” Mendi said, but before Greg had time to do more than grin stupidly and say, “Great,” he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“You guys going to the club?” Andy said, glancing between Mendi and Greg. “Mind if Connie and I tag along?”

“The more the merrier,” Greg said, not bothering to try to sound convincing, because he knew Andy well enough to know he wouldn’t notice.

Which was how he found himself sitting at a table with Mendi while Andy and Connie cuddled on the other side, looking disgustingly in love and reminding Greg of all the things he’d never let himself hope for. And he still wasn’t jealous, but there wasn’t a lot he wouldn’t give to have someone look at him like that.

He glanced at Mendi, and when he found Mendi watching him, his stomach lurched into his throat. It didn’t mean anything, Greg knew that, but that didn’t stop him from wanting it to. 

“So how’s Ty doing?” Greg asked, and when his voice broke he cleared his throat and reached for his drink.

“He’s great,” Connie said, beaming the way she always did when someone asked about her kid. “He’s much more focused on school. I think the fact that he’s about to graduate is helping with that.”

“It’s going to be hard to see him go to the Academy,” Andy added with a wistful smile. “But he’s determined to follow in his folks’ footsteps, and I can’t fault him for that.”

Greg smiled at the pride in Andy’s voice. He knew the feeling; Greg had been there for Ty’s entire life, and he was just as proud of the way he’d turned out as Andy and Connie. It was the closest he’d ever get to having a kid of his own, so he was glad Ty had turned out so well.

They listened to Andy and Connie talk about Ty for a while longer, then they made an excuse about getting home to him and said goodnight. Once they were gone Greg glanced over at Mendi, his heart picking up speed when he found Mendi still watching him.

“Sorry about that. They get a little crazy about their kid.”

Mendi shrugged and drained the last of his drink. “He’s lucky to have them.”

Greg couldn’t argue with that; he’d never had any parents at all, and he knew Mendi had only had a mother. He’d never really asked about her, but Greg imagined it wasn’t easy on Mendi, growing up knowing what his father had been.

“He’s a good kid.”

“So I gathered,” Mendi said, grinning when Greg laughed. 

‘Right. I’ve known him his whole life, I guess I’m used to his cheering section.”

Mendi smiled again, softer this time, and if Greg didn’t know better he’d think it looked a little wistful. He was trying to figure out how to ask when Mendi stood up and nodded toward the door. “Ready?”

“Sure,” Greg said, standing up and letting Mendi steer him through the club to the corridor. The hand on his back was warm and solid, big in a way that sent shivers down Greg’s spine.

“They’re important to you, Connie and Andy,” Mendi said once they were out of the club, his hand leaving Greg’s back. 

“They’re my best friends,” Greg answered, glancing over at Mendi. “Andy was the first friend I made at the Academy.”

Mendi nodded, his jaw a little more tense than usual. “I’m afraid I didn’t make friends at the Academy. None of my classmates seemed to trust me.”

“If it wasn’t for Andy, I wouldn’t have had any friends either,” Greg admitted. “Most people are still kind of weirded out by the whole clone thing.”

“No one here seems all that bothered by it,” Mendi said, stopping in front of Greg’s quarters.

“Yeah, well, they’ve had time to get used to me. They’ll get used to you eventually too.”

Mendi nodded, but Greg could tell he didn’t believe it. It didn’t really matter, though, because eventually he’d realize Greg was right. “Listen, do you want to come in?”

Greg’s heart pounded hard in his chest while he waited for Mendi to answer. This wasn’t exactly how he’d planned to ask; he was pretty sure he’d worked out a speech, but that was before Andy and Connie had crashed their date and spent the whole night rubbing their perfect relationship in Greg and Mendi’s faces. 

“Okay,” Mendi said, slowly, as though he wasn’t entirely sure what Greg was asking.

“Good.” Greg reached for his hand, and when Mendi glanced down, Greg held on tighter. “I’m asking if you want to stay. You know that, right?”

Mendi nodded, then he let Greg pull him inside and lock the door behind them. Greg’s heart pounded so hard against his ribcage that he knew Mendi could hear it, but he leaned up on his toes anyway, gripping the front of Mendi’s uniform for balance as he brushed their lips together.

It was barely a kiss, just a quick press of lips on lips before Greg pulled away again. He wanted to give Mendi a chance to back off if he needed to, but Greg really, _really_ hoped he didn’t. It felt like forever before Mendi’s hand slid into Greg’s hair, then he leaned forward and kissed Greg, soft and slow in a way Greg hadn’t expected.

“I want to stay,” Mendi murmured against his mouth, and Greg really hoped he meant ‘forever’.


End file.
